Food NotWork

I’ve commented before that as a society, we’ve become disconnected from our food.  Over-processed and over-packaged snacks and meals are part of the problem.  But I also think that there is another culprit:  Food Network.

    Cooking shows used to be relegated to public television, treated like nerdy academic subjects.  I doubt that my favorite food personalities, Lidia Matticchio Bastianich, Lynne Rossetto Kasper, and of course, the iconic Julia Child, would get a slot on Food Network’s current lineup.  Even Martha Stewart is probably too vanilla for this cable channel that has morphed into the worst—or best—of E! and MTV.

I admit I love Iron Chef, watch The Next Food Network Star, and understand why Emeril has an almost evangelical following.  But there’s a manic side to this network that I find almost disturbing.  The sultry Nigella, the luscious Giada, dandy Sandra Lee, and the over-botoxed Rachel Ray (is she trying to look Korean?) are more about the personalities (if you can use that word) . . . and male (and female) drool they inspire rather than the food.

What also rankles me is the lofty expectations and goals to which these shows and their hosts aspire:  they are modern culinary supermodels.  We watch these shows and are expected to whip up impossible dishes using ridiculous (or processed) ingredients in an hour, or in a Rachel Ray 30 minutes (which apparently is impossible, even if you use her favorite ingredient, packaged shredded cheese!).  Then you’ve got the competitions, graced by misanthrope “judges” who literally whack the hapless contestants at their knees for lack of texture or flavor integration after a 20 minute contest.  Every time I see Alexandra Guarnaschelli eviscerate a chef with her Mommie Dearest glare, I feel the culinary post traumatic syndrome.  I then think of my poor grandmother, who had no access to expensive or organic ingredients to which Bobby Flay and his ilk couldn’t hold a candle . . . but I’m sure Guarnaschelli would have hurled a tsunami of snide remarks with matching eye daggars towards Grandma anyway.

The chef contestants are often the worst gremlins:  self-important, egotistical, and about as soulful and engaging as the stars of fast food commercials.  You watch them snipe at each other and the judges and wonder, is there any joy to preparing food?  Is creating a meal really so tortuous and complicated?

So we watch impossible people create impossible dishes, and then there are the commercials.  We’re told to use only the finest and freshest ingredients . . . then watch advertisements featuring McCafe, frozen pizzas, potato chips, and genetically engineered-then-pulverized coffee.  It makes me want to starve—or stuff my face.

In the end Food Network is about entertainment, and I understand that.  And don’t get me wrong, some of the shows are very good.  But overall, I want to see food accessible, educating, and enlightening:  too much of that channel is buffoonery and bastardizing.  I can get shouting and posturing from Fox News or MSNBC—getting it from Food Network is nauseating.